My mission to save her
Bread story from The Hunger Games - Peeta’s POV
Uploaded; April 8 2012
I stare at the drawing that was right in front of me on my desk. Another pointless drawing. I tried to draw a forest, or at least my idea of a forest since I haven’t ever seen one. She has. Katniss Everdeen, the girl I had a crush on for as long as I can remember. To this day, we still haven’t share a word, even though I would do anything for it to hear her talking to me. This drawing should be for her, as a first step. But however I draw a forest, she wouldn’t like it anyway. She’d probably think I’m a loser, laugh at me because this forest wouldn’t be like the real one at all though. With a sigh I tear the paper and throw it in the trash can. I throw my pencil down on my desk, and stand up. I start to pace through my room. Katniss. Oh, how badly I would like to walk up to her to tell her how I feel about her. Even if it just would be a greeting or introduction. If only she would look at me. With every thought about her, I get a huge knot in my stomach and I get even more nervous than I already was. I walked up to the window, let my hands rest on the windowsill en press my forehead against the window. I stare outside. It has been raining like crazy all day, and it seems like it’s icy rain. I sigh again and I’m just about to walk away when I see something outside. I saw a small girl walking in our street, looking very weak and tired, clung up to a huntings jacket which was way to big for her. Katniss. I pressed my hand against the window, wanting that I could take her inside, to be here in the warm bakery with me. She doesn’t look good. Not good at all. Even though I can’t see her that close from up here, I can see she is sick. That she is weak and tired. I can see it by the way she’s moving. She is right in front of the bakery right now, I can see the bakery’s light shining on her beautful face. Even though she is beautiful, she doesn’t look well. She looks dead, with dark circles under her eyes, a hollow gaze and sunken cheeks. She is going to die. That was the first thing that pops up in my mind when I see her standing there. I knew I had to help her, but my mother doesn’t approve her and her family. She thinks they are pathetic, because they became this way after Katniss her father died. I always got angry when she said something bad about Katniss or her family.But she can’t know how I feel about her, she would never accept it. My father is the only person in the world who knows how I feel about her. And he understands it completely, because I think he is still in love with Katniss her mother. I can see the pain in his eyes too when my mom says something bad about her. That she is lazy and horrible that she never got a job after her husband died. That she is better of dead because she let her children become this way. And suddenly I knew I had to discuss this plan with my father, but I don’t have time for that. My father is busy downstairs at the bakery, and so is my mother. It seems like there is no way to discuss this with him, so I need to do this all by myself. I look outside again. Katniss. She is still there, outside in the cold rain, looking inside the bakery. I run out of my room, down the stairs and enter the bakery. I look out of the window again and see that Katniss, beautiful Katniss is looking inside the rubbish bin. On the same time I see her, so does my mom. She rushes out of the bakery, screaming. I see Katniss got scared and she wakes away, while my mother is screaming at her.
”Move on! The next time I’ll see any brat from the Seam pawing through our trash again, I’m going to tell the Peacekeepers about it. I’m sick of this!”
I know this is the time to do something for Katniss, that I have to help her. I’m looking around me, looking for something useful, and see two of our luxurious breads, with raisins and nuts, baking in the oven. My mother walks into the bakery again, and I hear her saying bad things about her family again.
”Those people. That woman is too lazy to get a job herself, and now her kids are eating trash. Well, it’s not like they had much anyway.”
That’s it. Outside I see Katniss struggle to our old apple tree, where she collapses and falls down on the ground.
My mother is about to take the breads out, but I got there first.
”Here, let me do this, mother..” I say, and I take the spatula to get the breads out.
”Go away boy, I can do this myself!” she says to me while she tries to get it back.
I am not leting it go, and I whip the breads in the fire. I smile a little bit, happy with this result until I feel a sharp pain in my cheek. My mother hit me with her hand. I can feel my cheeck swell up, and hold my hand to it while my mother gets the loaves out of the fire. She pulls my arm off my face and throwes the still burning loaves in my hands. They were all burned on the outside, but I’m sure they are fine on the inside. Excellent. This idea was way better than that stupid drawing. The pain was all worth it.
”Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature! Why not? No one decent will buy burned bread!” she yelled at me.
I run outside, and the icy rain makes me all soaked in just a few seconds. Still smiling a bit I walk to the pig. And there she is, holding herself together against the cold and her weakness. Even while she was broken, she was still the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. With her dark hair in a simple braid and her dad’s hunting jacket pulled close around her fragile body. She followed each of my movements, switching her gaze from my face to the loaves, and back again. I walked to the pig slowly and started to chunk off the burned pieces on the loaves. I could feel that my mother had followed me, probably just to be sure I wouldn’t give the bread to Katniss. Then I hearded the bell inside the bakery, which meant that there was a customer. This got me all light up inside. My mother walked back inside. I took one look behind me to check if she was really gone. All of the burned bread was ripped off now, and while still staring at the pig, I threw one of the loaves into Katniss her direction. The second followed quickly. I looked at her for a final second, saw she looked at the loaves all confused. I sneak back to the bakery and close the door behind me. I did not see my father at all, but he was smiling at me. I smile back to him, because he knows exactly what I was doing. He winks and asked if my mission was succeeded. Of course he was the only one who knew what I was doing, that the burned loaves weren’t an accident at all. I nod and smile even more. I turn around and saw through the window that Katniss ran away with the loaves under her jacket. I sighed, and only then I felt the pain in my cheeck. We still have not shared a single word, but that would happen soon. One day she will thank me. One day.